


Declaration

by Draycevixen



Series: Space Cowboys [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 23:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycevixen/pseuds/Draycevixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My lovely mate Norfolkdumpling is home sick with the lurgy. This little fic is for her. Feel better ND!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Declaration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [norfolkdumpling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/norfolkdumpling/gifts).



He was not a coward. To be such would imply an unseemly lack of control over his own emotions and yet... he still hesitated on the threshold, strangely reluctant to enter. 

“Spock!”

Never one to shirk his duty to his captain, he squared his shoulders and entered the captain’s quarters.

Inside, was a pit of horrors beyond all his imaginings. Crumpled up tissues littered the floor and every other surface, along with dirty plates and glasses. The bed was piled high with blankets, the lights were low, and the air was rank and fetid.

“Might I inquire exactly what died in here? Whatever it was, its rate of decomposition is extraordinary and should be studied further.” 

One of the blanket piles shifted slightly, Dr. McCoy’s croaky voice emanating from it. “A Vulcan comedian and I thought I was in hell already.” 

“Captain?”

“Here—” a coughing fit caused the other pile of blankets to shake violently. 

He walked to that side of the bed and held out the PADD he was carrying at arm’s length. He had never caught an Earth cold but he saw no harm in exercising appropriate caution nonetheless. 

The top of the pile of blankets flipped slowly back and he came face to face with his captain. Frankly, he would have preferred it if the blankets had stayed up. 

As the captain slowly read the PADD with rheumy eyes, he considered asking about the toy sehlat sharing the captain’s pillow with him but then decided such an inquiry might be inappropriately personal. 

It took the captain 15.3 Earth minutes to read a report that would have normally taken him only 4.5, before the captain signed off on it. During that time, he began to realize that the unfortunate smell in the room was emanating in large part from an old bathrobe thrown across both Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy. It appeared to be printed with cartoon cowboys. 

When he was still a child, his mother had attempted to share her love of the Lone Ranger mythos with him but he had failed to see the logic in a man who could disguise his identity merely by wearing a small mask across his eyes. 

The captain held out the PADD and he gingerly took it back, careful to handle it from the other end. 

“Is there anything else I can do for you, captain?”

“Thanks, but no. Just leave us here to die in peace.”

Humans were nothing if not melodramatic. “At least let me remove this old rag. The stagnant air cannot be good for you.” He caught hold of an edge of the old bathrobe between thumb and forefinger. 

The blankets flipped back quickly on Dr. McCoy’s side of the bed. If anything, the doctor managed to make the captain look completely healthy by comparison. 

“You touch that bathrobe and you’ll have farred your last pon, Spock.”

McCoy looked like he meant it, but then in his current condition rationality was probably even farther beyond his grasp than usual. 

“Captain, I must protest, it is obviously germ ridden and my duty is—”

“Leave it, Spock. Bones’s grandmother gave it to him, it makes him feel better, hell, it makes _us_ feel better.” 

He had read about the human belief in magical objects before but had never witnessed a case personally. He should take the opportunity to study it further. 

Both the captain and the doctor started coughing so hard the bed shook. 

Perhaps his questions should wait. 

 

***

 

As soon as Spock had left, Jim had curled back in to him and he’d pulled the old bathrobe closer around both of them. 

“Jim?”

“Yeah?” 

“Spock already knew about us?”

“Of course he did.”

“Why?”

“Can’t be rational, not about you. I’m the captain, I’m supposed to be.” Jim murmured, half asleep again already.

It wasn’t much as declarations went, but he’d take it over any other.


End file.
